Lady Sings the Blues
by Britpacksuccubus
Summary: Every word of every song she sang was to her, the girl behind the lens. And she was gone in a flash but not before experiencing the sinful southern moves of the lady that sings the blues.  AH/OOC/FemmeSlash


Running late, as usual, I slipped my arms through the holes of my dress and allowed the emerald green, bohemian style sheath to cascade down over my body. I tousled my vibrant red hair around my shoulders, slid my feet into a pair of ballet flats and bolted down the stairs.

James was playing his guitar quietly as he waited for my entrance. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he lowered it to watch his fingers while he played me in. I stepped upon the tiny stage, gripped the microphone loosely in my hand and began purring into it like I had done every night for what seemed like an eternity. Thankfully, I loved what I did for a living and couldn't imagine doing anything else.

I noticed a flash out center-stage and remembered that Benny had mentioned we might be visited by a journalist doing a piece on the club. When the lights would dim between songs and my eyes would adjust, or when she'd step into the light for a new shot, I saw the raven haired girl snapping away from behind the lens.

Our first set was brief and I thought it best to take advantage of my break and make myself a bit more presentable for the camera. Dashing up the stairs, wrenching the dress over my head in the process and tossing it aside, I contemplated my next look. A light dusting of shimmer over the swell of my chest and I was, again, good to go.

Our music began and this time I was already standing at the microphone as the spotlights came up. The crowd broke into applause as I broke into a little Black Velvet. My body swayed with the melody as I crooned the sexy lyrics, suddenly very proud of the choice I'd made in my wardrobe, when the flashes from the audience went double time. I realized, however, that those myriad of flashes were coming from only one camera...the girl with the raven hair.

And then, as quickly as the flashes started, they stopped. She sat down, put her camera away and watched incessantly. The only time she broke the gaze was to speak to her server. When Marcus returned, placing a single slice of Grandma Cheney's award winning pecan pie in front of her, I knew she was in for a real treat. We had the best of all worlds here with strong drinks, tasty southern dishes, delectable desserts and of course the Bloodthirsty Blues to lull their senses. However, as much as she seemed to enjoy the pie, she seemed to enjoy our music - or possibly me - even more. Her eyes seemed completely fixated on me and, even as she took bite after bite of the warm southern specialty, she looked deep in thought as her eyes danced with light and followed my every move.

During the next break, I travelled around the room shaking hands with the newcomers and greeting our regulars. However, my time was cut short prior to making her acquaintance. Much to my delight, though, she stuck around for our final set. She was quite enchanting with her dark grey sweater dress, black suede boots, cream-rimmed glasses and dark burgundy lips that pursed around the end of the fork with each savored bite of her remaining pie.

We completed the last number and the audience expressed their gratitude as the house lights came up. I hurried off the stage and quickly made my way to her table before she could depart. She fussed with her camera bag and coat, but as she stood and turned, she jumped when she discovered that I'd snuck up behind her. She stared into my eyes like a deer caught in the headlights and sat back down slowly, attempting to reach her gaping chin.

"I've never seen you in here before," I said, leaning over her with one hand on the table, one hand on my hip, and an air of superiority.

"I-I-I've never been here before," she stammered.

"Well, I'm glad you came. Are you the journalist we were expecting?"

"The ummm...journalist?"

"Yes, to do a piece on the club and interview us?"

"Oh! Ye...yes, of course, I'm the journalist!"

Giggling, I asked, "May I?" signalling to the vacant seat beside her.

"Oh! By all means, please do," she said, watching the satin of my dress part as my bare legs crossed, one over the other.

Extending my arm and reaching for her hand, I looked deep into her soul and said, "I'm Victoria and I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance."

Her hand was cold, clammy and trembling but she gave a firm handshake and replied, "My name's Angela."

Breaking into song as I so often did, I sang a classic Stones tune, "Angay! Annnngay, where will it lead us from heeere?"

She stared at me, in confused awe, lips curved into a big smile and eyes dancing back and forth between mine.

"Angie, you have such a beautiful smile that really sets your eyes alight."

She looked away and back again to say, "Thank you. And I think that you're just...just gorgeous."

"Ooooh, aren't you are a sweet talker?" I flashed her my biggest grin and winked as though I was channeling an old Hollywood bombshell.

"So, who do you write for?"

"Write?" she asked quizzically.

"Yeah. You're a journalist, remember?"

"Oh right...sorry. It's called Twilight's Eclipse. I do music reviews, club recommendations, check out reader's suggestions, etc."

"Ohh, I've never heard of it but it sounds very cool."

"It's kind of a passion of mine," she shrugged.

"And I just bet you're a very passionate woman, Angie."

Changing the subject off of her quickly, she said, "Your music is amazing, so soulful and very compelling."

"Thank you, darlin'. That means a lot coming from you."

"Do you have a CD?" she asked anxiously.

"Well, we haven't actually recorded an album yet but we've laid down a little something on my computer for special occasions. Would you like me to burn you a copy?"

"Yes, ma'am, I would love to get my hands on that!"

"Baby, if you don't call me ma'am again, I'd say you can easily lay your hands upon anything you'd like. Hows about you join me upstairs?"

"Yes, ma'a...er, Victoria, as you wish. And thank you."

I chuckled as I rose to my feet, extended my hand, and helped the lady journalist to her own. Slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she followed me closely as we ascended the stairs. At her position, her face was no doubt in line with my round ass and, becoming rather aroused at the thought, I made sure to accentuate my positive.

I knew that I needed to remain professional for the sake of the club and our music, but it was a struggle as I reveled in the thought of making her my next... victim, so to speak. I loved the human form in all respects but the innocence behind the rims of her glasses and her body encased in that form-fitting knit dress made it quite a challenge.

Upon entering my abode, she set her bag on a chair near the door and her blue eyes followed me as I approached my desk. I bent over seductively at my computer and began burning a disc of our music for her.

As the songs filtered onto the platform, I set it to play in the background as well, and made my way to the fridge in my kitchenette. Pulling a bottle of wine from the tiny recesses, I asked her if she'd like to join me for a nightcap. She quickly agreed and I poured us both large glasses of the elixir.

"Blush," she said contemplatively.

"Mmmmhmmm...white zinfandel is my favorite."

Licking the pink liquid from her lips, she clarified, "Blush. A blush seems to suit the creaminess of your skin, Victoria. Do you blush easily?" I had misunderstood her and realized she must have been starting our interview.

"Ohhh, not really, no. I've been there, done that - more times than I care to admit - and I'm not easily embarrassed."

"Ahh."

"You?" I couldn't resist turning the tables a bit.

"NO!" she stressed, seemingly eager to again change the focus from her back to me.

She walked up to the large windows overlooking Beale Street and stood silently for a very long time, sipping her wine and taking in the lights below.

In her silence, and unable to fight my own desire any longer, I began, "I watched you quite intently tonight."

"You did?" she asked. Seeing her reflection in the glass, I noticed the wrinkle between her eyes deepen with her inquisitiveness.

"I did. Have you any idea what went through my mind watching you eat that pie, Angie?" I chided.

Looking around nervously, she responded hesitantly, "Nooo."

Standing, and sauntering up just behind her, I ran my fingertips up the length of the thick knit of her sleeve and whispered into her ear, "How badly I wanted to fuck you."

Grabbing her waist and spinning her around to face me, I noticed a deep, dark, crimson flush spread over her face and down over the hidden flesh of her body.

"What's the matter, love?" I asked arrogantly, with a smirk.

"Nothing! I uhhh...nothing is wrong."

"Then why are you blushing so?"

"I just...I uhh...," she swallowed hard to regain her composure and the upper hand she so clearly thought she had, and continued, "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

"Ohhh, you were, huh?" I lifted her hanging head to bring her eyes to mine.

"Yes, I was," she admitted, candidly, biting her lip and dropping her eyes to the floor. "But I've never been with a woman and wouldn't even know where to begin."

Gripping her chin and raising her face to meet mine yet again, I placed my lips on hers. I was gentle and soft at first, careful not to frighten her. The soft flesh of her lips acquiesced slowly to mine and when she didn't back away, I knew I had her under my control.

Someone once told me that a sensual kiss could melt panties, make a reluctant party submit, and bring on a mind-blowing orgasm. I'd yet to experience anything beyond the submission but that, in itself, would be enough for now. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would eventually melt her panties and bring on an orgasm unlike any other she'd ever experienced before.

Her body softened under my grip as it began to relax and willingly accept what I had in store for it. I smiled behind the kiss, knowing full well I'd be getting exactly what my body had craved throughout the evening.

My hands began to roam over her and she let out a large exhale when I firmly cupped my palm around her breast. Her breath whooshing into my own lungs breathed life into my already excited vessel. I gave a good squeeze and nudged my thigh between her legs. The heat emanating from inside sent me spiraling at the thought of the delicacies I'd encounter within.

When her lips parted for the exhalation, I seized the opportunity to introduce her to my tongue. She was at first reluctant, then became more accepting, and eventually adventurous. Her own tongue dipped into my mouth, hungrily caressing every texture.

Her body pressed roughly against mine and her hands came up to frantically grasp at my hair. I pushed on her shoulders thrusting her back against the window, again displaying my dominance, before I lost it completely.

The girl gasped and threw her head back, just enough for my teeth to find the delicate flesh of her throat and sink into it. At the same time, I slid her arms up to pin her hands above her head.

Carefully removing her foggy glasses from her face and securely placing them on the end table, I regained my position and began to slide one hand down her petite frame. I found the hem of her dress and moved my hand slowly up her thigh. I was dismayed to find the sheer, dark fabric adorning them were a pair of full length tights, but made quick work of them when I dug my nails right through the crotch.

I rubbed the pads of my fingers briskly over the soft flesh of her pussy and found her very moist with desire, fueling my own and found myself gasping in the anticipation of delving deeper. But, I wanted nothing more than to taste what was coating my fingers and hoped to have it all over my body in time.

Dropping to my knees, removing her high-heeled boots and wrenching the elastic remnants of her tights down and off of her legs, I pressed my lips to the soft skin of her thigh. I kissed, sucked and nipped my way up the expanse as I pushed the soft, yet heavy material of her dress up until I met the intricately trimmed surface of the best smelling pussy I'd ever encountered. I nuzzled into the small, soft patch of hair that adorned her pussy, and inhaled deeply of it's sweet scent. Her fervent need for my touch, my tongue, was palpable in her aroma, the dampness seeping down her thighs and the heat radiating from within.

Placing her leg up and onto my elevated thigh, I moved my fingers toward the moist recesses so obviously aching for my touch. I could feel her entire pussy pulsing as the blood raced beneath, also anticipating what was to come.

Parting her lips with my fore and ring fingers, I slid my middle finger between the warm folds. My breath caught in my throat upon the initial feel of just how warm and wet she really was for me. I'd yet to even begin and her body was signalling it's desire in full force.

I pushed my finger deep inside her and watched as her body quivered when I added a second. I pumped them forcefully, then curled them to tickle her G spot when she started clamping down on them.

Her knees trembled and started to buckle as I brought her to orgasm against the cold glass of the window. I braced her body with my opposite hand until she rode it completely out and then allowed her to collapse down on top of me. Her body was heated and damp with sweat as she squatted down around me and folded her body over mine.

Carefully pushing her torso back up off of mine, I stood and reached for her hand. She, too, stood and let me lead her to the bed. She laid down softly on her side, the knit still riding high around her waist, exposing the sexy curve of her hip.

She propped her head up on one hand, watching me as I disrobed. Reaching my arms behind my back, I grasped the tiny pull of my zipper and slid it down carefully. The red satin fabric of my strapless gown slowly inched down over my breasts until it reached the peak and dropped abruptly to my hips. I eased my thumbs under the gathered material and shimmied until it cleared my ass and stepped out of the pooled fabric. I stood in front of Angela in my heels alone and watched her eyes take in the full length of my long, lean body.

Straddling Angela's legs, I pulled her into a sitting position, grabbed the bottom of her dress and pulled it up over her head and off of her arms. She sat before me in nothing but a black lace bra with the ebony tresses of her hair cascading down over her shoulders and shielding the gentle swell of her breasts.

I bent at the waist, pushed a strand of hair back behind her and pressed my lips to hers. She began laying back on the bed slowly and my body followed til I hovered over her on all fours. Ducking my head, I kissed and lapped at the soft skin of her neck. My tongue dipped lower, tracing the lines of her cleavage as I pulled her bra aside. I sucked a nipple into my mouth and heard the air rush into her lungs and linger there while I toyed with it.

"You're too tense! Let me give you a massage so you'll relax a bit," I said, nudging her to roll over beneath me. Complying and allowing me to unclasp the hooks of her bra, Angela pulled it from under her and tossed it aside.

I worked my nimble hands from her shoulders to her ass and quickly began concentrating on the lower region. I kneaded the flesh, squeezed her muscles and spread her cheeks apart with the rough passes my hands made over the top of them. Her moans of pleasure were louder and more often when I focused on her ass, not to mention her back arched and lifted her ass further into the air, signalling to me that she really enjoyed it.

Gripping Angela's hips and pulling her back onto her knees, I reveled in the sight before me. Her pussy was glistening with want and her ass was puckered tightly waiting for my kiss. Teasing the flesh with my lips, my teeth, my tongue; Angela's moans turned to whimpers.

Running my tongue from her clit to her asshole, Angela gasped and threw her head back, enjoying the intense sensation. As I repeated the action several times, I felt Angela push back into me and I knew that she really liked what I was doing to her.

Adding my fingers to the mix, I slid two inside her wet pussy and pressed my thumb to her clit, again feeling the blood rush under her skin. Although Angela had never been with a woman before, the swollen flesh of her pussy alone was a good indicator of her desire for me to continue, but the sounds she made were proof positive.

I turned to move under her, placing my head between her thighs. Sucking her clit tightly into my mouth, I continued pumping my fingers inside her until she once again clamped tightly around them and came for me.

"Stay right where you are," I said and disappeared to delve into my bag of tricks.

When I emerged quietly from the bathroom, Angela's head was bowed into her folded arms but her ass was still prominently perched in the air. Placing my knees on the bed inside her own, I licked my fingers and moistened the outside of her pussy. I knew damn well she'd be plenty wet inside.

Teasing the entrance, I gently pressed the head of my strap-on cock inside her. Angela gasped and tensed but soon relaxed as I began to slowly thrust in and out of her pussy.

Rocking back and forth to meet my thrusts, Angela's long moans and high pitched whimpers were interspersed with what sounded like growling. The forcefulness with which she rocked back into me grew more and more until I was fucking her fast and hard, pounding her pussy with all my might. Beads of sweat ran down between my tits and my slick abdomen slapped against the now red flesh of her ass.

The aroma of sweat and sex hung heavily in the room as Angela's body writhed and bucked and I struggled to hang on. I reached around and pressed my fingers firmly on her clit until she let out a wild scream of pleasure. Had I been a man, she would have milked my cock for all it was worth. Seeing her enjoy what I gave her, knowing it was really just a small taste of all that I could, was in itself satisfying for me.

I pulled out, slowly lowering her body to the bed where she crawled haphazardly toward the pillow and under the covers. She nestled in looking more beautiful than when she arrived. Despite the tousled hair, her cheeks were flushed and a slight sheen reflected the light of the moon that filtered through the windows.

I cleaned up in the bathroom and returned to find her sound asleep with a satisfied smile on her face. I crawled in behind her and kissed the back of her head, my own smile of satisfaction carrying me into my own slumber.

The following morning I heard the sound of her camera's shutter snapping picture after picture of me. I remained still, pretending to be in a deep sleep. She quickly scribbled something on my bedside table and quietly left the room.

When I heard the front door click shut, I opened my eyes and turned toward the table. She had left her business card with a note scrawled on the back.

"Sorry I fell asleep, last night was amazing! Next time you're all mine!" and signed it with a heart, followed by, "Angie".

~oOo~

Many thanks to **marzywild** for the encouragement, support and clean up on this one.

And as always, to **bitemypillows** for being the love of my life and constant inspiration for all things naughty. Thank you, baby, for being my soulmate and bride-to-be. I love you so much!


End file.
